Sept. 01, 2007 - 20:50 MDT

AULD LANG SYNE

Days of yore, the sights, feelings and smells of long ago are with Heather and I yet today.

Picking Concord grapes, in the sun which entails stooping and reaching up and sometimes through to get those luscious orbs brings on a bit of sweat.

Then the work begins, washing them well, then picking the grapes off the stems is labor intensive as well.

It continues while in a pot of water, boiling away for a time. Then cooling, dipping and straining and finally into glass jars. After a time carefully pouring parrafin onto the top and capping with caps purified by boiling water.

There are probably other esoteric things that Heather does, but that's all I know about. I am allowed and encouraged to help, and glory in it. Then my observation, "Any jelly is okay as long as it is grape," again holds true for the cold months of the year. PB and J sandwiches, grape jelly on toast and whatever else comes to mind to make a day warmer with grape love.

When we married, once again was I treated to all those home made, canned goodies that I saw Mom and Grandma make when I was very young. Chow-chow, Picallilly, Dill Pickles and all the canned vegetables that they could get. All so time consuming and labor intensive they were, and oh, so very delicious to the tongue. Heather's Mom taught her daughter well, she did, and I was initiated into the league of Home Made Stuff by Heather.

Times have changed and we don't have time to do much of that anymore, but every year grapes given us from a friends vines are lovingly processed into grape jelly in our home.

Remembering the chicken coops full of poultry, the kitchen gardens in so many of the domiciles of our neighbors, thinking of just how much effort, and time was spent in preparing for winter, the wood chopping and storing of same in preparation for Boreas winter visit.

Yet, remembering how absolutely yummy canned vegetables and fruit brought up from my mother-in-law's basement hoard was at table puts a glow on my heart.

So in a very minor way Heather and I keep going the blessed days of AULD LANG SYNE . . . . . . . . . . . . .

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